"Good morning, children. Welcome to Blazewing Academy of Magic. I'm Fronica Moonray, your duelling teacher. Now, on to the rules," our teacher begins speaking in the classroom. Students begin to mumble.

Fronica Moonray? So she's the one who signed my letter. She throws me a small smirk while caressing her short, black hair. Her protruding cheek bones and sharp eyes frighten me somewhat.

She begins explaining the rules, the parts of the academy, and the syllabus. My eyes wander around, catching students opening their books and chattering among themselves.

"Yeah, I'm Archduke Isabelle's daughter," a girl boasts.

"While this academy focuses on strengthening your magical prowess, you are prohibited to use battle magic on your schoolmates outside formal duels. You will be escorted to your dorms after this lesson. All your baggages and luggages have been transported there," she finishes talking.

"Any question?" she asks with a somewhat malevolent smile, upon noticing the increasing volume of chattering.

The students neither confirm nor deny; everyone is either talking or staying silent. The teacher's veins pop.

She sweeps her hand. Suddenly, everyone becomes silent.

Our bodies becomes numb and our hands shiver. My eyeballs can barely move. A thin ice layer covers our arms and legs.

As if an instinct, I secretly release my aura, breaking the ice. Madam Fron raises an eyebrow. Many pairs of eyes glance at me.

"No? Then get your lazy asses on the duelling courthouse in five minutes!" she shouts as she releases the spell.

Wait. Isn't the first lesson supposed to be theoretical? The teacher's eyes meet mine for a second, her smile blossoming.

The journey to the courthouse feels tiresome. The other students talk to each other all the time.

While I am alone.

Well, what more can I say?

"Right, kids. The rules are the same with the entrance exam's rules!" Madam Fron shouts after we reach the courthouse.

The courthouse is actually quite decent, but not extravagant. There are several training dummies. Short grass covers the land.

Four pairs have duelled, each duel ending in one or more parties getting injured. Some blood spills on the arena, reddening the grass.

Sweat falls from my forehead, the shaking of my legs uncontrollable. I glance at the audience, hoping that I can just say, "I back off." My heartbeat doubles as a grim thought invades my mind,

"What if I accidently kill somebody?"

"Remi Isabelle," Madam Fron says. A purple haired girl–the same girl who boasted her noble lineage earlier–steps forward, a smug expression on her face. She unties her single ponytail. "Against Violleta Vonville."

Drats. Come on, what kind of bad luck is this? Bah. I'll just surrender quickly.

I step forward to the arena. Remi bows slightly. I follow suit. "Well, then. Begin!"

Remi leaps forward in a flash of lightning, my eyes barely capable of following her slender body's moves. "Ugh!" I murmur as she electrocutes me. I land a strong kick on her jaws, forcing her to release me. Madam Fron watches with great interest.

"Where is your magic!?" Remi mocks, sending lightning bolts after lightning bolts after me, as I struggle to dodge them.

"Lightning Chain!" She shouts, launching several honing lightning from the air.

"Augghh!" I gasp in pain.

Remi grabs me by my hair. "Come on, show me that weak magic of yours. You'll see that I'm far superior than you!" she mocks in a low voice.

"That's enough, Remi!" Madam Fron's stern voice is heard. Distantly, I can hear a disappointed sigh.

"You hear her," I mutter to Remi.

"I don't care. Show me your magic. My victory isn't complete without it," Remi murmurs back with a smug expression.

Suddenly, it hits me. The fury and anger.

Why should you stay patient, Vio?

Don't you have your powers?

Unleash it.

Screw that damn bitch!

"As you wish," I mutter to Remi.

"Blood Salvo!" I shout, summoning numerous blood arrows from the sky. Remi leaps and jumps, but eventually one of them hits her on her back. I can hear whispers and gasps from my classmates. Madam Fron's eyes widen, but she remains calm otherwise.

"Uft!" she gasps in pain. "Chain Lightning!" She throws in her last effort, sending lightning bolts at me.

"This doesn't work anymore," I scoff. "Blood Shield!" The compact blood that I turn into a round shape blocks the bolts.

The odd sensation of joy and fury is overcoming me. My lips form a wide smile even as my veins pop.

"Why don't you try this?" I wave my hand, calling upon several skeleton warriors.

"Not so prideful anymore, aren't we?" I scoff as Remi struggles to fight off my minions. I dash forward, slashing her abdomen.

I have to end this before I am consumed.

I call back my undead minions. "Let's just say I won," I say.

"No ...," Remi mutters. "Lightning Bomb!" Remi shouts. A massive ball of lightning appears from her right hand, striking at me.

I create a giant bone hand, blocking the attack at the last second. I wave my hand, and the giant bone hand advances on the defenseless Remi.

"Enough!" Madam Fron angrily shouts. She twirls her left hand, and, in an instant, what was a giant skeleton hand is now ashes.

Damn it ... I-I did it again, didn't I?

"Go back to your classroom and read your books. Write an essay about fire magic–tomorrow's the deadline. Violleta, you're coming with me," Madam Fron says.

Madam Fron stays silent on our way. People begin murmuring among themselves. Some points at us with their fingers while whispering with their friends; this behaviour is quickly shut down by Madam Fron's glare.

We arrive at Madam Fron's office: a private room. It is decorated simply with pictures of war. A large amount of medals is displayed on a table.

I recognise those shiny medals: three of them are Irvine's highest decorations, the Order of the White Knights, the Green Knights, and the Purple Knights, after Irvine's tricolor.

Madam Fron's cold hand snaps me back to reality. Her face is unreadable, her eyes curious and her lips silent.
"Vio, do you know just how ... significant your act was?" she asks.

I nod quietly. "How much control do you have control over your demonic powers?" she asks again.

"W-what?" I ask. "Your powers. There can't be any mistake. Its source is a demon," she murmurs to me, "there's a reason why I approved you even with all the stuff you did in the entrance exam."

"My powers come from a demon?" I ask.

"Yes. I have fought their Lords for hundreds of years, I know a demon," Madam Fron answers, "your affinities, blood magic and necromancy, are obviously unusual."

"So ... am I getting expelled?" I ask cautiously.

"Expelled? No! No, of course. Students getting hurt while duelling is common," Madam Fron answers while laughing a bit.

"If battle mages can't handle the little pain they suffer here, how can they suffer the terrible magic in battlefields?" Madam Fron raises an eyebrow.

"I-I want to know more about demons. How can a demon enter me?" I ask again.

"Hmm ... demons. Tough stuff–not the kind of topic you'd expect a random teacher to explain. I specialize more in battling them than in explaining them. But I will tell you several things," Madam Fron sips her tea.

"The last time they invaded, it was roughly 200 years ago–hopefully you do read your history books, because I'm sure a thing or two are written in there. I was still one hundred years old at that time." She begins her tale.

"100? How come?" I ask.

"Being a Class V mage comes with a few perks such as eternal youth," she says.

"Huh? Class V?" I ask. Fear disappears, turning into curiosity.

"Ah, sorry. It's military language. We divide people to different groups according to their power level; Class I to Class V. At your level, I think you're a Class III, but I'm not sure." Madam Fron answers heartily.

"They did a lot of shit. They came from their own world through what we call cracks–we don't reveal this to public, but it's because we don't fully understand them, either." She sips her tea.

"'we'?"

"You know, the Archdukes, the generals, the admirals, the King, people like that. From now on, what I'm talking about should not spread to anyone."

"The demons built a machine capable of cracking the barrier between the two worlds. Outside that, they can also naturally form such cracks. However, the machine widens the cracks considerably, bringing more and more demons," she continues recalling.

"The rest is well known history, right?" Madam Fron raises an eyebrow.

"Er, yeah."

"We managed to capture the cracking machine and the cracks gradually recover. The Allies ultimately won, and the Golden Empire–Aurum Imperium, if you fancy ancient demonic–failed." Madam Fron ends her tale.

"Uh, okay, cool, but how did the demon enter me?" I ask.

"Demons enter you when your mental state is weak. Of course, only powerful demons can do so, and it is extremely difficult and almost pointless. Which brings us to my question," she murmurs.

"Have you witnessed losing a family member or something of that calibre?" Madam Fron not-so-cautiously asks.

"Yes ... I was four when several rogue demons killed my parents," I answer hesitantly.

"And when did your powers develop?" She asks again, this time even less cautiously.

I gulp, answering, "Since I was four."

"You get it now? For now, please return to your room-you share it with Aelita Greenbell. Refrain from using your magic unless it is extremely necessary. If someone tries to corner you, tell me and I'll whoop their asses. Tomorrow, at seven o'clock in the morning, meet me here."

"Understood, Madam."

A demon inside me?